


Cabin Fever

by seqular (sequential)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Breathplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 17:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11086692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequential/pseuds/seqular
Summary: Written for the ASW prompt: "I don’t know how to make things right.  So I’ll just keep pretending that nothing’s wrong. (you know that I’m no good)"





	Cabin Fever

They’re halfway to Antarctica when Ford starts to get antsy. Stan can recognize the signs of it this time. They’re an echo, reaching through the haze of his still-recovering memory. Ford spends a lot of time pacing on deck. He sits out there and meditates, even when it pours rain. When he does return inside, Ford spends a lot of time writing in his journal, his jaw clenched in concentration. Once, when they’re drifting slowly in a calm sea, he catches Ford balanced precariously on the edge of a rail, looking longingly out at the distant moon.

“Ford!” he says, reaching him in a few quick steps. “What are you doing out here?” He places a hand on the back of Ford’s collar to steady him.

Ford turns to him, blinking slowly, as if he’s waking up. “Stanley?“

“You trying to learn how to swim out here?” Stan asks, and gives him a gentle tug back to the boat.

Ford laughs, but lets Stan ease him back down. “The water looks nice, I could go for a dip.”

“Is the cabin fever really so bad you have to off yourself?” Ford doesn’t really need Stan’s help now that he’s back on the deck, but Stan keeps an arm around him anyway because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“And leave you to try and navigate back yourself? I’m not that irresponsible.”

Stan rolls his eyes, but settles down when Ford leans in to kiss him.

—

Later, they’re squeezed tight on Stan’s bunk, Ford underneath him, his legs around Stan’s waist and every heave of his chest felt against Stan’s own.

Stan kisses him, gently, but Ford moans and licks into his mouth, pulling Stan’s head toward him to kiss him deeper. Stan moans back, still fucking into him slowly. There’s not enough space to get much leverage, but Stan can feel Ford tighten around him all the same.

“Stan—Stan,” Ford says, catching his attention.

Stan stops, raising an eyebrow at him. Ford flushes red, then takes hold of Stan’s hands. At first, Stan thinks that this is what Ford is embarrassed about, but then Ford brings one, and then the other, to his neck.

“Please,” he says, and closes his eyes.

When Ford comes, later, Stan’s hands are still around his throat, squeezing. He gives a strangled moan, his eyes still squeezed shut, but when he comes down from his orgasm, it’s the most content he’s looked in weeks. He’s pliant as Stan chases his own release, and doesn’t even complain when Stan comes inside him.


End file.
